


I. Don't. Need. A. DATE!

by CelestePhantasm



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: And she goes to great lengths to get him to indulge, But Natasha is keen on trying to get him to date, But Steve makes the decision on his own, Encouraged by an aphrodisiac, F/M, In which Steve is still not keen on dating, Mostly Smut, Smut, it does have a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 09:31:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15312576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestePhantasm/pseuds/CelestePhantasm
Summary: Steve doesn't want to date. He especially doesn't want a one-night-stand.He doesn'tneedthose things.Natasha thinks he does.Or, at least, she thinks he needs to relax, and she's keen to help him do it.Meet (Name)—one of the most gorgeous women on the planet.Steve is in over his head.At least he'll have fun with it.





	I. Don't. Need. A. DATE!

**Author's Note:**

> **_DISCLAIMER:_** I do **NOT** own _Captain America, Iron Man,_ or _The Avengers,_ or any of their contents or characters. I don't own any of the writers, concepts, or _anything_ at all. This is written purely for fun; I make no profit from this.
> 
> So...I've been on a Steve Rogers thing lately, and I blame a number of photos of his actor and his appearance in _Infinity War_ (which I don't own).
> 
> I've been dying for a good smut with the man, but most of it pairs him with Tony...or Bucky...or Sam...so I thought I'd share a female reader-insert with the good Captain.
> 
> As stated in the tags, there are some questionable circumstances, but Steve _does_ decide to indulge himself of his own volition.
> 
> That said, I hope you guys enjoy this! I had a lot of fun writing it.

“So, Steve, you know how I’ve been trying to get you a date?”  
  
Steve instantly felt his shoulders tense and he mentally prepared himself to tell Natasha _no_ another dozen times. “You haven’t for a while—I was hoping you were over that,” he said, honestly.  
  
“Well, sort of,” she said, and Steve’s shoulders hunched a little more. He _really_ didn’t like that tone. At. All. “I gave up, but I think you probably aren’t up for the long term, so…maybe you just need a good fuck,” she said.  
  
Steve had about a thousand things to say—and a good few he was too embarrassed to say out loud. “Natasha, that’s…really not my style, on top of it not being necessary, at all,” he managed, after he made a number of noises that weren’t _quite_ words. “I’m fine. I don’t need a date—or a girlfriend, or…or… _sex,_ ” he finally managed to spit out, but the words were quiet. They were walking back toward Steve’s apartment, and it was late, and Steve was suddenly _very_ certain he didn’t trust where she was going, though the path was familiar, so far.  
  
“I would disagree,” she said, very calmly. “You stumble over half your words with women if you find them attractive and you should definitely work on that, but my point is more about you being…tense,” she said, and she turned a corner.  
  
Steve didn’t follow her. “Where are you going?” He paused, and narrowed his eyes. “And that’s not going to change anything, so I’d prefer you to drop it.” Steve never thought he’d miss her actually trying to get him to date.  
  
“There’s a shop around the corner over here, I need to get something,” she said, simply, and she glanced over her shoulder. “You coming?”  
  
Steve didn’t trust that she’d actually dropped the discussion, but followed her.  
  
He’d just have to keep his eyes open.  
  
But Natasha really did stop and get something, an extraordinarily beautiful necklace, and then they were heading back toward his apartment.  
  
She stopped again, at another apartment building, and Steve tensed up again. “Relax, Rogers—I’m just delivering the necklace. Coming up with me?”  
  
Steve didn’t like that she hadn’t told him from the start, as they were heading to his apartment for her to crash (she’d gotten attacked, hers was a wreck, it was a long story), but he knew he would feel bad if he walked away from her. She wasn’t _badly_ hurt, but she was injured enough for Steve to feel his old instincts kick in and for him to be wanting to protect her.  
  
So Steve walked inside and took the elevator, and they had to take the stairs to the highest floor in the building.  
  
Natasha had already buzzed ahead to get them let in, but she had to press another button here, “It’s Natasha. I’ve got a friend with me,” she said.  
  
The door buzzed open, and Steve saw that it was a thick door that…well, without his shield, he probably couldn’t get through it, if he couldn’t rip it off the hinges.  
  
The place was opulent in the utmost—paintings on the walls, a fountain in the entry, with statues and vases arranged with enough flowers to scent the room.  
  
But it looked _homey.  
  
_ And it looked like a place Steve didn’t belong.  
  
In the back of his mind, he felt himself wondering if his shoes were dirty.  
  
“In the kitchen, babe,” a voice called.  
  
Steve followed Natasha, mouth open, in to a gorgeous kitchen with every amenity—and it was _spotless,_ but for where the woman was working. The smell coming from the stove was _divine,_ but Steve stopped cold when he saw the woman cooking.  
  
He could only see the back of her, but she was wearing almost _nothing._ She had on a pair of shorts that were so tiny that Steve’s eyes jumped to the ceiling, but not before noting that her shirt was almost see-through, and she had on no bra, and it was as tiny as her shorts.  
  
“I was just putting away the leftovers before my shower,” she said, and Steve didn’t bother to look down—he wondered if he’d break everything in her apartment if he physically backed out right then. “If I’d known you were stopping today, I would’ve cooked for you.”  
  
“I had a long day,” Natasha said, smoothly, but she had made it to the island counter in the middle of the kitchen. “I’m spending the night with Steve, since my apartment’s a wreck.”  
  
The woman turned around, if the sound of her voice was anything to go by, Steve thought. “Oh, he’s sweet. Boyfriend?”  
  
“Coworker. Friend.” Natasha gave her a smile that made her eyebrows rise to nearly her hairline. “I’ve been trying to get him to date, but he’s not so keen…” She purposely reached out and grabbed Steve, jerking him toward her, and he stumbled and _yeah, no bra._ “Steve, this is (Name),” she said, deliberately elbowing him in the ribs. “(Name), Steve.”  
  
“Oh. Rogers?” (Name) looked at him from top to toe, a devilish smile on her lips. “He’s much more handsome than I thought,” she said, but Steve hadn’t managed to look at her below her hairline. “Really, Nat, you’ve been holding out on me.”  
  
Steve managed to speak before Natasha, somehow, “Not in,” he gasped, and then wanted to punch himself, just a little. Or a lot. “I mean, I’m not…I uh…”  
  
“What he’s trying to say is he’s not the one-night-stand type,” Natasha said, smiling coyly, “although he definitely should be, if you’re offering.”  
  
“Oh, who wouldn’t, darling? He’s _gorgeous,_ ” she said, and Steve jolted when she touched him, and he made a mistake—he met her eyes.  
  
He couldn’t look away.  
  
“Such beautiful eyes,” she murmured, and her hand was trailing from his shoulder to his elbow, and she was so close, he could smell her. “Mm. And that jawline, too…you’ve got great lips, sweetheart,” she said.  
  
Natasha was grinning so widely one might have thought her a relative of the Cheshire Cat.  
  
“I uh…”  
  
“But you’re not in to that, hm?” She pulled away from him, and Steve felt like his skin was on fire where she’d touched him, and he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She boxed up a portion of food and shoved it in her fridge, and then turned to Natasha, and frowned. “You’re injured.”  
  
“Oh, trust me, I’ve gotten enough medicine seeing you shut him up,” she said, grinning. “It’s not bad. I’ll sleep it off.” She waved her hand a little, and then offered the other woman the little box. “I brought you the necklace.”  
  
“Thanks, Nat,” she said, smoothly, but Steve noticed the slight change in her expression; the corners of her lips turned down a hair. “You shouldn’t have,” she said, and Steve was sure there was something beneath that.  
  
Natasha shrugged. “I figured it was time.”  
  
(Name) glanced at Steve, and then he saw her subtly shake her head—only once. Natasha leaned her head back. Steve’s shoulders tightened so much his neck hurt. “I think I’ll wait for you at the entrance to the building, Nat,” he said.  
  
Natasha moved faster than him, “Listen, I’m sorry about this, Steve, but I made a deal and she owes me one, so…” Natasha waved Steve’s keys—leaving him patting his pockets and then already starting toward her—at him. “You’re going to spend the night here, and I’m guessing you’re already feeling the dose I gave you.”  
  
Steve stopped dead, and then started toward her much more angrily, because he _knew._ “You **_dosed_** me!?”  
  
“I mean, it won’t kill you—it’s just an aphrodisiac—you’re just going to have the urge to fuck her senseless as soon as you don’t have something else to think about…” Natasha was already at the door, now, and shook her finger at the supersoldier. “Not that you have to act on it, I’m just giving you some incentive—not that her beauty isn’t enough.”  
  
“Romanov!”  
  
Steve’s slight guilt— _slight_ —and his moral compass wouldn’t let him hurt an already-injured friend, and the door shut behind Natasha with a heavy sound that set Steve’s nerves on edge.  
  
“I’m sorry about this,” (Name) said from behind him. “If I had actually known what was going on, I would have refused the favor.”  
  
“And what the hell did you think she was asking you?”  
  
(Name) was quiet for a moment. “She was up front about wanting me to seduce someone and give them a…very long night, but the way she made it sound…I figured it was going to be Tony, or some poor sap who’d been fawning over her,” she murmured. “She also didn’t tell me she was going to dose you.”  
  
Steve could already feel it setting in, especially now that it was brought to his attention, and he swallowed his groan. “Considering my metabolism, it shouldn’t have worked,” he said, after a moment. “Why would she do either of those things to you?”  
  
“Ah, well…” (Name), mercifully, didn’t actually move in to his eye line to speak to him. “Um. Tony, mostly to shove it in his face that not all of high society thinks he’s the greatest thing since sliced bread,” she began, carefully, and there was a small pause. “The other…she’s an attractive woman, and there are…times when men are less than…good people, and they stalk her, or harass her, and she can’t exactly kill someone over it, so…I do her a ‘favor’ and get their attention…and then when they stalk _me,_ I can usually do something about it, due to my influence…and the fact that I’m not notorious for being a spy who should be able to ‘handle it herself,’” she explained.  
  
Steve wondered if he could literally fit himself inside her freezer for the next six hours or so.  
  
“I’m not sure whether or not that’s nice of you,” he said, honestly.  
  
“Well, I’m not, either, but I’ve had my fair share of crazy people after me, and if I can keep someone else from enduring it, whatever it may make me look like after the fact, I’d rather do it.” She said those words quietly, but Steve could almost hear her pausing. “I’m not going to coerce you, but I should tell you—and I’m being honest when I say this—you’re going to have a lot better night if you actually…relax and agree to what she’s suggesting,” she said, quietly. “I can’t make you—I wouldn’t—but I can tell you you’re going to spend the night sweating and uncomfortable and generally very unhappy the way things are at the moment.” She paused again, and a light turned off behind him. “Also, I can help you get back at her, I can promise it.”  
  
Steve didn’t know he felt about the first part of it, but he _definitely_ wasn’t going to let Natasha live down doing this to him, especially when he was locked in a room with a woman who was, without doubt, the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on, and _she was practically naked.  
  
_ “Natasha’s going to regret this,” he muttered, to start, and then rubbed his face. “I…am not that type of guy. I’m not sure I can _be_ that type of guy,” he said, after a moment, very quietly.  
  
“Alright,” she said. “I’m going to take my shower. I…can’t prevent you from leaving, but if you don’t want to go out in public under the circumstances, you can sleep on my couch or the spare bedroom, if you like,” she offered. “There’s a bathroom attached if you need to wash up,” she added.  
  
Steve blushed, but he couldn’t quite keep himself from turning toward her when she walked away; her footsteps were light, barely audible, and she moved with an almost… _unearthly_ grace.  
  
Her shorts also rode up with every step, making his pants seem much, much too tight.  
  
…He definitely couldn’t go out the door at this rate, and honestly, a part of him wondered if Natasha would leave him alone if she _thought_ he’d done what she kept pushing on him.  
  
But the couch was _tiny.  
  
_ Well, it was tiny in the sense that there were so many pillows on the thing that he couldn’t just put somewhere, her place was so neat, and it wasn’t wide enough, and his feet would definitely hang off the end…  
  
By the time he had paced the floor and debated back and forth about staying or leaving (though he had taken his shoes off, mostly to minimize noise), he was so wound up that he knew he wasn’t going to sleep…which was even worse than he felt _before,_ which was saying something, because his mind had already started wandering to her taking a shower.  
  
Damn it.  
  
But could he really do that?  
  
…Could he ignore her, and his body, and his mind, and…  
  
_Fuck.  
  
_ Her door was wide open, and he could smell her soaps coming out of the room, but…but…it was already too late, because she was on the bed, smoothing lotion over her legs, a towel barely held up around her chest, and…  
  
_Fuck.  
  
_ He couldn’t even knock.  
  
_Fuck.  
  
_ And she was looking at him, and starting to smile, and she smelled _so good…  
  
_ “Fuck.”  
  
She laughed, and he felt like she’d punched him. “Perhaps a little restless?” The words were gentle, maybe a little teasing, definitely flirty. She looked him over, dragging her eyes down his body like she could undress him with just her eyes, and then she was on her feet, and Steve felt his breath catch. “Did you change your mind, handsome?”  
  
He gulped, and opened his mouth, but he couldn’t quite speak, and she sauntered closer, and Steve felt like he’d been drugged— _really_ drugged. “We’ll take it however you want—if you want,” she offered, softly, but she hadn’t touched him.  
  
Steve was sure he would have absolutely lost his mind if she had.  
  
“I’m not…I’m not like this,” he managed, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her, and he felt himself wanting to break and reach out, he wanted to see if she felt as perfect as she looked, he wanted a taste of her lips, he wanted to know for sure the _exact_ scent of her hair…  
  
“It’s okay, honey,” she soothed, and she did reach for him, this time—she cupped his jaws in both hands, making him look at her. “There’s nothing wrong with this—and I know she dosed you, which really isn’t fair, because I’d have liked to have caught you of my own accord…” She smiled at him a little, and it felt like she’d shocked him. “But if you’re saying ‘yes’—and I’d really like you to actually tell me for sure—I promise we’ll do it right.”  
  
Steve wanted to tell her no. He wanted to tell her he was stronger than that.  
  
And, really, Steve _was_ stronger than that, Steve wouldn’t have agreed if he didn’t truly _want_ to do it, and…  
  
She was gorgeous, and she hadn’t forced herself on him, and she’d given him options, and…and she was _nice_ about it all, and…  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Her eyes lit up, and she laughed a little, but then she pressed in close to him, and he felt like he’d been struck with electricity. She pulled him to her, meeting his eyes, and right before she kissed him, she stopped, just breathing.  
  
Steve thought he might die before her lips found his.  
  
And then he felt that electricity again, more intensely, and he could taste the toothpaste in her mouth, and she was all soft and warm, she was curvy and _perfect_ and his arms dropped down, scooping her up, pulling her higher up to kiss her better, and she hummed against his lips and Steve knew he was _doomed.  
  
_ She kissed him until he forgot anything but her, she kissed him until he stumbled the handful of steps to her bed, until he had her pinned down beneath him, kissing her like she was more important than breathing, and she had to break away to gasp, pushing on his shoulder to keep him back. “Slow, babe. Slow down. You’re still dressed,” she breathed, and her fingers started working on the button-up he was wearing, finding his eyes. “I promise you won’t want for anything with me—but your lungs are a little bigger than mine, I think,” she teased, and Steve felt her already pulling the shirt off him.  
  
He let her, revealing the plain, white shirt beneath it, and she pulled that off him, too.  
  
“No shame—first time, or no?”  
  
Steve’s blush told her enough, and she smiled at him. “Alright. I’m okay with that. For now, you strip the rest of the way, and get on the bed for me,” she murmured, kissing him again, and Steve felt like he’d probably have obeyed her if she told him to jump off the roof.  
  
He managed to get his belt off, and the pants fell, and then the boxers, and Steve was on the bed as fast as he could be, because…  
  
He was in over his head already.  
  
She rid herself of the towel and climbed on after him, and Steve found himself gripping the quilt on her bed so tight he thought it might tear, but then she was practically in his lap, kissing him, and a fraction of sanity reminded him not to hurt her; he barely held back his grip, panting when she let him go, kissing up his jaw, down his neck, back up, her hands wandering over his chest, and _God_ Steve wondered why he’d never done this before.  
  
She kissed him again, but pulled back a little, meeting his eyes. “You tell me anything that you don’t like, and I promise I won’t do it again, okay?” She waited for him to nod. “Tell me if I move a little too fast for you, babe,” she said, and he felt her hands slipping lower, and she kissed him right about the time her fingers traced the shape of him, thick and warm, and he let out a moan when her fingers circled him.  
  
“Fuck,” he breathed, feeling his hips twitch, wanting to ride in to her hand.  
  
“She _did_ do a number on you, didn’t she?” Steve didn’t manage to respond, because she was already pulling at him, gentle, working up to it, until her hand was making him feel like he might absolutely lose all his sanity in this bed with her, but he was sure it was _worth it_ because he’d _never_ felt this good in his life. He clearly wasn’t her first, and Steve couldn’t find a cell in him that could begin to regret that.  
  
“Relax, babe,” she murmured, kissing him, pushing at his shoulder with her free hand, “we have all night.” He let out a little groan in to her mouth, and she smiled against his lips. “You’ve got the stamina for it, right? I’ll tell you a secret,” she murmured, and Steve’s eyes rolled in to the back of his head when her thumb circled the tip of him, and he threw his head back, mouth open. “Women need a little work—you have to work us up to it, you know,” she breathed against his neck, and Steve grabbed on to her hip, moaning quietly. “Lots of kissing,” she murmured, and he could feel his belly clenching, and he resisted. “Everywhere, and I really encourage you to explore,” she added, and Steve’s hips jerked in to her when she nipped at his pulse, which was so fast it felt like his heart was going to jump from his chest.  
  
He didn’t manage to reply, because _fuck,_ she was playing him like her favorite instrument, and—  
  
And—  
  
He let out a guttural moan and bucked up in to her hand, and she worked him through his orgasm, kissing his shoulder tenderly, and Steve almost melted in to the bed, breathless.  
  
Fuck.  
  
She sat back and watched him gasping, and Steve let his head fall back, eyes closed, just trying to find his sanity after all that, because…she’d barely done _anything_ and he’d turned in to putty in her hands.  
  
But…but it didn’t alleviate it all, and he groaned quietly, because he’d had the tiniest hope that, if he could just…climax, just once, maybe he could get home, kick Natasha to the curb, and wait it out alone, but…  
  
On the upside, he could breathe again.  
  
And mostly think.  
  
“Jesus. You could give a girl a lot of trouble, if you decided you wanted to give her your all,” she said, and Steve grumbled softly, but he sat up, finally making himself look at her.  
  
Her hair was still a little wet, and she was absolutely bare…and absolutely gorgeous.  
  
But without the unbearable urgency, he felt a little flustered and shy again, and as soon as he started to reach out, he hesitated.  
  
She smiled at him, and moved closer, and she took one of his hands. “I’m not going to make you do anything,” she said, gently, “and if you’ve changed your mind, you’re free to back out at any point,” she promised.  
  
He paused for a moment, and then made up his mind.  
  
He hadn’t actually just… _given in,_ because, really, if Steve Rogers decided to do—or not do—something, he stuck to it. It wasn’t just because Natasha had dosed him enough to make him unbearably uncomfortable, or that she had locked him in—because, really, as embarrassing as it might have been to walk out of that apartment building with a bulge in his pants, Steve could’ve made that choice, and honestly, he doubted (Name) would have begrudged him a cold shower, or _anything_ that he might’ve chosen to do, because she’d left the choice entirely up to him.  
  
Not that Steve wasn’t going to do his absolute best to give Natasha hell for putting him in this circumstance, though. She’d deserve it just for dosing him, because…really, Steve wasn’t this type of guy.  
  
The fact that (Name) had given him more than enough room to decide on things himself—and that she seemed absolutely at ease with the idea—hadn’t hurt, because she wasn’t making a big deal of it, or treating him like some sort of…inferior because he hadn’t done this before.  
  
And maybe Steve _was_ too tense, but he didn’t think this was the solution…  
  
But (Name) made it a lot easier to think it wouldn’t hurt to try it. He didn’t know her from Adam, and there was nothing between them but Natasha and he could walk away at the end of this, if he liked, without having it held over his head—he was very certain (Name) could make sure Natasha didn’t know whether or not he’d actually indulged.  
  
Or—and Steve would only admit this deep inside his head—it was because Steve had fumbled all over being around women his whole life, even after the serum, and here was a gorgeous, forward, confident woman that had outright told him what she thought, but had backed off and let him make the decision, instead of _forcing_ it on him, like Natasha had tried doing for _months_ or _years.  
  
_ True enough, (Name) had inspected him, and flirted, but she’d backed away and left him alone and…  
  
Steve _wanted_ her. She took his inexperience in stride and she was working with him, rather than just rushing headlong in to things and deciding to fuck him on the spot, she was waiting to see if he was still interested, with his brain function returning.  
  
He reached out and curled his arm around her waist and pulled her closer, and he hesitated, and then dipped his head, and she obliged him, kissing him, threading her fingers through his hair. He slipped his hand up her side, timid, but his thumb brushed her ribs, up to her breast, and she let out a soft sigh in his mouth. He paused, and he felt her smile. “Like this, honey,” she murmured, and she took his hand, pulling it to her, cupping one of her breasts, squeezing softly, then tugging at his thumb, pulling it to her nipple. “You do it right, and you can work me up just like this,” she murmured.  
  
Steve hesitated, blushing, but he worked at it until her head fell back a little, her mouth open, and she squirmed a little bit, one of her hands sliding over his thigh, and Steve shivered. “Oh, you’re a quick learner,” she breathed, letting out a soft, whimpered moan when he feathered his thumb over the tip of her nipple, her back arching, and Steve’s breath caught.  
  
He pulled her closer for another kiss, aching, just seeing her mouth open, hearing the soft noises starting to come out of her, and she pressed close, whining a little.  
  
She encouraged him to use his lips on her, and he hesitated, but kissed up her jaw, and down her neck, pausing at her pulse, feeling it flutter against his lips, and then he dipped lower, hesitant, but curious.  
  
He kissed down to the tip of her breast, and she shivered in his arms, gasping when his tongue flickered across her nipple, and she cupped his head close, mouth open. “Mm-hmm, I like that,” she promised, in a breathless voice that made his belly clench.  
  
Steve worked his way in to softly pinching her nipple between his teeth, and she gave him a moan that made his hips buck a little bit, his hand pulling her in to his lap, a groan rumbling in his chest.  
  
She was slick and warm when she straddled one of his legs, and Steve let out a soft moan, running his hand along her thigh, and she laughed breathlessly. “God, you’re a gentle giant,” she said, letting out a little whine when his free hand pinched her other nipple, pulling just enough to make her ride his thigh. “Fuck! Steve,” she whined, and he was sure she’d just plugged his spine in to an electrical socket, to hear his name the way she said it.  
  
She pulled his hair a little, and he let her go, reluctantly, and she tipped his head back, kissing him until he was holding her a little too tightly, but she finally let him go and grasped his wrist. “You’re a big guy,” she murmured, looking at him, her eyes lustful and half-lidded, and her hips were rocking, just a little, on his thigh. “As much as I’d love to just take you here and now, I think I may need a little help,” she murmured, pulling at his wrist, and Steve shuddered. “Will you let me teach you?”  
  
Steve couldn’t—wouldn’t—didn’t even _want_ to tell her no—and he nodded helplessly, kissing her again, and she grinned against his lips. “Okay,” she breathed, and she pulled at him. “Trade places with me.”  
  
She settled herself in to her pillows, laying herself out for him, and Steve wasn’t sure how he could possibly want anything more in his life, because she looked like a _goddess_ lying herself out for him. “Come here, babe,” she murmured, and she circled his neck with her arms, pulling him in for another kiss.  
  
When she let him go, she grasped his hand in hers, slipping it down her body, and Steve couldn’t help it—he moaned when he felt her slick heat, and she dragged his fingers along her slit, until they were wet. “Okay, right here?” She pulled his fingers up until she jolted, moaning, “that’s sensitive—like the tip of your dick. If you want to get me off, quick, that’s your target—but we’re going for making sure I can take you,” she breathed. Her face was flushed, her lips were darker from their kisses, and Steve wasn’t sure he’d ever seen anything so gorgeous in his life.  
  
“So,” she continued, slipping his fingers back down, “be gentle—use your fingers like you’re fucking me with them, and I’ll let you know how you’re doing.” She grinned at him. “You can use your thumb on my clit—but not too much.”  
  
Steve obeyed her, dipping two of his fingers in to her slowly, and she moaned softly, rocking her hips a little bit, and he realized what she wanted; he took his time and worked in to it, until she was gasping his name, making him feel like an absolute mad man, and she whimpered when he pressed another finger in to her, moaning and twisting under his touch. He feathered his thumb over her clit, and she jolted, hissing his name—he felt her clench around his fingers, and _fuck,_ that was hot.  
  
She urged him to do it again, and he obeyed, and she clenched again, and Steve felt like she was punching him, because the _noises_ she was making were enough to make him want to put a _much better_ body part to use.  
  
But she surprised him when she reached down, using her fingers on her clit, and he _knew_ and she shouted his name as her body clenched and surged around his fingers, and she twisted beneath him, flushed and gasping and _twitching_ with the pleasure.  
  
He watched her as she gasped, and he pulled himself from her, and her knees fell down, and she had her eyes closed, panting, trembling.  
  
Before he knew what was happening, she was up again, kissing him intensely, reaching down, pulling at the thick, hard length of him, whispering his name. “Fuck, Steve, I didn’t think you’d learn that fast,” she breathed. “I can’t imagine how well you’d do if I got to have you again,” she said against his lips.  
  
Steve bucked up in to her hand, breathless from just that touch, trying to hold on to his sanity because he just wanted to pull her in to his lap and—  
  
“Can I suck you off?”  
  
Steve stopped breathing, and nodded helplessly. “I’m sure it won’t take much to get you going again,” she murmured, kissing him again, “you’re so…mm.” She kissed down his neck, his chest, pushing on his shoulders to tilt him back, and Steve obeyed every move she made. She settled herself between his legs, licking the tip of him, and he _forgot to breathe_ for at least a minute when she took him in her mouth.  
  
“Fuck, (Name)!” He couldn’t quite help bucking up in to her, but she didn’t even flinch, she just hummed around him and _holy hell did she just punch him?_ But she didn’t and Steve thought he was going to absolutely explode—literally.  
  
He managed—somehow, he would never know how—not to grab her hair, or her shoulders, but she was definitely going to need a new quilt. “Fuck!” (Name) had pulled him in to the back of her throat, she was working him so intensely he couldn’t even _think_ and—and—  
  
“(Name)!”  
  
He was torn between watching her, on her hands and knees, as much of him in her mouth as she could take, her hand holding the base of him, hearing her moan around him, and throwing his head back and screaming.  
  
The latter won the fight when he finally let go, feeling like something burst inside him, and he let out a guttural moan of her name, bucking up in to her mouth, his hips twitching helplessly as he emptied himself, shaking all over.  
  
Forget a fight—(Name) might kill him in this very bed.  
  
He was certain he’d die happy, though.  
  
He fell back on the bed, trembling, gasping, paralyzed, and _relaxed,_ and _God_ that felt good.  
  
He didn’t see her swallow as much as she could of his cum, her fingers cleaning up her chin, licking her lips, but she sat back, a _very_ satisfied smile on her lips, just watching him.  
  
She only spoke when his breathing began to slow, and her voice was soft, and low, and it made him shiver. “God. You’re still ready to go,” she said, and there was a tone of surprise…but he was sure she sounded _very_ lustful, too. “I bet you could fuck me senseless and still want more,” she murmured, but there wasn’t any negativity in her tone—she sounded _delighted._ “And you’re so big, I bet you’re going to feel so good,” she was saying, and he felt her warmth on him, and she was kissing him, and Steve didn’t even _want_ to tell her to slow down.  
  
He kissed her back, picking her up, pulling her on to him, kissing her breathless, unable to help himself; he reached down, cupping her ass, and she moaned in to his mouth. “I’m definitely ready for you,” she whimpered, when his fingers stroked along her dripping slit, leaving her twisting in his arms. “How do you want me?”  
  
Steve was a little too far gone for thinking much more than how badly he wanted to feel her around him, so he picked her up, laid her back in to her pillows, and kissed her breathless again, and she whimpered his name when she felt him press against her. “Fuck! Wait, babe,” she gasped.  
  
He didn’t _want_ to, but he obeyed her, and she kissed him, and pushed on his shoulders, and he sat back, and she slipped from him, leaving him aching, but she was back a moment later, rolling a condom on him. “No offense—I’m not up for kids.”  
  
Steve was glad she’d thought of that, because it hadn’t even _occurred_ to him, but then she was pulling at him again, kissing him again, and it slipped his mind, and she let out a whine when he slid against her. “Fuck! Come on, Steve,” she pressed, and she reached for him, lining him up, and _fuck_ she was hot, she was so slick, and warm, and he slid in slowly, until she was gasping his name, whimpering softly.  
  
“Fuck! You’re so big,” she gasped, and Steve let himself laugh.  
  
“You feel so good, (Name),” he breathed, rolling his hips in to hers, slowly, just rocking in to her, and she trembled under him, gasping her name when she adjusted her hips beneath him.  
  
“God, just fuck me, Steve!”  
  
He obeyed her, moaning, burying his face in her shoulder, because it felt _so good,_ he thought he might actually die.  
  
He started slow, a small part of him worried he might hurt her, because…well…but she felt amazing around him, and she was moaning, whimpering, saying his name, rocking on him, squirming, moving with him, and _fucking hell_ she was _encouraging_ him, asking for more, and he sped up a little, grabbing her quilt to try to keep himself from losing his mind.  
  
“Fuck! Steve, fuck me harder, _please,_ ” she begged, and Steve was going to lose his _goddamn fucking mind.  
  
_ He slipped his arm beneath her, pulling her up to him, and she gasped, feeling him adjust, and pull almost completely out of her, before sinking in to her up to the hilt, and she let out a keening whimper that was _almost_ his name. It made her feel so full it was almost too much, and she shook in his grip, but then he pulled back a little, and then snapped his hips back in to hers, and she gasped his name, unable to think.  
  
He felt like _perfection,_ and she could feel his thrusts stimulating her clit, and she couldn’t help digging her fingers in to his shoulders, his name lost from her tongue—she could only gasp with every slow, hard stroke of him, so deep in her it felt like _heaven.  
  
_ (Name) clutched at him, utterly incoherent, feeling like she was barely conscious, pulling her legs up and open to fit him better, and he slowed down, finding her lips with his again, and she whimpered in to his mouth, shaking.  
  
He picked up again once he let go of her mouth, and she gasped. “Fuck! Steve, I’m— I’m gonna— Fuck!”  
  
She shuddered around him, and then he felt her core clench and grip him, rippling, and she was moaning, shivering, gasping his name, and Steve couldn’t hold back—he rutted in to her, perhaps a little too roughly, but he only managed a few more thrusts, and she twisted and shook with every single one, before he finally shattered.  
  
He wobbled on arms that had never failed him since the serum, and she pushed on his shoulders, gasping softly. “Fuck, Steve,” she whispered, and she nudged him again. “No offense, I don’t think I can handle you on top of me.”  
  
Steve groaned, and then made a decision—he scooped her in his arms and rolled, and she collapsed on his chest, shuddering in his arms.  
  
He felt her snuggle in to him, panting, and she was still convulsing around him, making his orgasm linger, rippling through him like a drug.  
  
But she pulled away, whining quietly when she managed to rise and pull herself off him, and she threw away the birth control, before curling on to the bed in his side, still breathless. “Fuck. I don’t think I’ve ever had an orgasm like that,” she murmured in to his shoulder, her arm over his stomach, and he felt her drawing tiny circles with one of her fingers on his skin.  
  
When he didn’t reply, she rose a little bit. “I didn’t actually kill you, did I?”  
  
Steve found himself laughing, surprised at himself, and he shook his head. “No, I just…don’t know what to say,” he murmured.  
  
She grinned at him, and she watched him for a long moment, and then leaned in, kissing him, slowly and passionately enough to make his toes curl, and he cupped the back of her head, holding her close. “As long as you’re alive,” she murmured, but she didn’t pull far—he could feel her breath on his skin. “Thank you, Steve,” she said, quietly, and he felt her brush his hair back from his face; it was wet with sweat, and he only realized it once he felt the air turn on in her room. “You are…definitely a great learner.”  
  
He chuckled, but he found himself looking at her in surprise, because he felt a little calmer—more rational, and his brain was starting to crank back to life, slowly. She was gorgeous, even in the soft smile she wore, the satisfied look in her eyes. “I’m pretty sure I should be thanking you,” he said, honestly.  
  
“Oh, I don’t know about that…but we’ll call it square, considering that’s the best sex I’ve ever had,” she murmured. She smiled at him in a way that made him doubt whether or not Natasha’s mischief had worn off. “And I may as well tell you—you definitely don’t need an invitation to come see me again,” she said, grinning.  
  
Steve definitely blushed, but he saw her eyes starting to droop, and he took a moment to debate.  
  
It wasn’t a difficult decision.  
  
He stood, and she looked worried, but then he scooped her in to his arms, and he turned down her bed. “I think I owe you a quilt,” he said, as he put her down.  
  
“I’ll forgive you,” she said, and she was grinning. “Come on. You’ve already ruined me for any other man—stay the night,” she offered.  
  
Steve wondered what he was supposed to say about that, but he wouldn’t deny that he wanted to join her, so he climbed beneath her sheets and, when she snuggled up to him, he wrapped an arm around her. “If you happen to need another…session, I wouldn’t be opposed,” she said, but she sounded on the verge of sleep. “Just let me nap for a bit.”  
  
He hummed at her, and (Name) went limp in his arms, cuddled in to him, and…Steve didn’t leave.  
  
He didn’t _want_ to.  
  
He fell asleep, too, mercifully, because, despite her…invitation, Steve didn’t want to overdo it.  
  
…His body didn’t seem to agree, because he stirred not long after, feeling an awful, empty ache in his belly because he’d been dreaming of her, and waking up with her in his arms, feeling her bare skin on his…  
  
He went to roll out of bed, but (Name) moaned the minute he moved his arm, “Steve?”  
  
He groaned. “I was just going to get some water,” he tried, but she had already started shifting, and he heard her let out another moan, one very different from the first one, and the curve of her ass slipped over his shaft, making him twitch against her skin.  
  
“Like any girl could ignore that in her back,” she murmured, and he froze, but she turned over, and she kissed him, and the urge to dismiss the…issue…faded.  
  
She gave him a long, drugging kiss, her hand already trailing his thigh, and Steve moaned her name, helpless. “You don’t have to—”  
  
“Do you really think I wouldn’t want you again?”  
  
Steve groaned, and he rolled her back until she was on her pillow, kissing her breathless, much more sure of himself this time, molding her breasts and teasing her nipples until she was squirming, saying his name in a perfect whisper that made his spine tingle. “Fuck, Steve, that feels good.”  
  
Steve couldn’t deny the thrill that gave him, knowing she was enjoying it, knowing she wanted more, and he let himself indulge, dragging his fingers along her side, down to her hip, across her thigh, finding her center, circling her clit with one of his fingers.  
  
She twitched and pulled one of her legs up, out of his way, reaching up to cup the back of his head in one of her hands, “I think I definitely need to teach you to eat me out,” she breathed, and kissed him, leaving her to _feel_ him blush. “You’d be so good at it, Steve,” she continued, and she softly bit his lip, and Steve was, once more, very sure that he’d jump off the roof if she asked him, right then.  
  
But she let him go, sinking back in to her pillow. “But I think I may not manage that much this time around, so that’ll have to wait, if you decide this isn’t a one-time thing.”  
  
She was grinning at him, and Steve felt a pull in his gut, and he wondered if he could actually talk himself in to not actually coming back to her when Natasha was driving him nuts…or when he needed a night off, because…he was sure that, when it all wore off, Steve was going to be so knocked out that it would take a war to wake him before he was ready.  
  
He slid his fingers over her, and then gently pressed them in to her center, and she let out a soft moan, arching her back. “Fuck! Oh, God, Steve,” she whimpered, rocking her hips in to his hand, and Steve obliged her, dipping his fingers deeper, pushing and pulling, barely touching her clit with his thumb, but she was already shuddering beneath him, and he felt her body rippling around his fingers, and suddenly she grabbed his wrist.  
  
“Babe, you might want to take me now—I can already tell I’m going to be a bit too sensitive to cum twice,” she murmured, and she pulled him in for a slow kiss, though she had to break away for a gasp.  
  
“You don’t have to let me—”  
  
She grinned at him, and nipped his lip. “I told you, I want you,” she said, honestly, and she gently pushed at his shoulders. “Although, if you’d be open to it, I might change our positions a bit.”  
  
He seemed a little bewildered, and maybe a little reluctant, at first, but he sat back obediently, and she rose to meet him, kissing him, leaning in to him. “I’ll let you pick, if you like one of them,” she started, and she was smiling at him in exactly the right way to make Steve Rogers think that he was utterly doomed—but only in the best sort of way. “I can ride you,” she suggested, and Steve felt like she might have punched him, but he was starting to feel like he might be addicted to that particular feeling, by the end of the night, “or I could get on my hands and knees for you,” she suggested, and from the look she gave him, she preferred the latter.  
  
He had to admit, it would give him a little better grip on her, and the way he was feeling, he wasn’t entirely certain that he wouldn’t get a little too impatient if she was riding him, and…  
  
He didn’t want her to do the work, especially when she had already admitted she was tired, and probably hyper-sensitive.  
  
He still gave himself a moment to think it over, but he pulled her close, kissing her slowly, and she felt her toes curl. “Why don’t you let me do the work?”  
  
She let out a soft moan. “You’ll spoil me,” she answered, but she kissed him back, lingering against his lips, and then slipped away from him again—she suited him up again, and then repositioned herself, settling down on her hands and knees before him, and Steve groaned at the sight of her.  
  
He couldn’t resist dipping his head, kissing her spine, up to her shoulder, and she shuddered and backed in to him when he laid a kiss against her neck, feeling him slide against her. “God, you’re definitely going to ruin me—my expectations are much too high, now,” she mumbled.  
  
Steve hummed against her skin, leaving another kiss on her shoulder. “Your standards shouldn’t ever be low,” he answered her, and she let out a low moan when he pressed against her, sliding along her dripping slit, slicking himself in her desire, before slipping his tip in to her, rocking a little, easing himself in. “Not for anyone.”  
  
She was the one who didn’t manage to answer this time, finding herself arching, gasping, feeling him stretch her open, letting out a gasp, and then panting, feeling too full, but it didn’t _hurt,_ it was just more than she expected. “Fuck!” She could feel her body adjusting, feel him rocking against her, slowly pressing deeper and deeper, pulling back when she felt just a little too tight. “God! Steve, you’re so big,” she moaned, arching in to him a little, spreading her legs, biting her lip.  
  
He stopped, “Am I hurting you?”  
  
“No,” she gasped, softly, unable to keep herself from rocking back toward him, squirming in his grip. “I’ve just never had anyone like you,” she admitted, and he felt her body shifting naturally, adjusting to his position. “Just give me a bit,” she murmured, “although it wouldn’t hurt for you to work on the rest of me a bit—the more aroused I am, the better.”  
  
He paused, and then dipped down and kissed her back again, reaching beneath her, working at her breasts again, kissing and nipping her skin all the while.  
  
He felt her move, and she reached for her clit, barely stimulating it, and he felt the change a lot quicker—she started to relax beneath him, and then she started rocking back toward him, moaning under her breath, and Steve shifted a little, rocking in to her, and she let out a low, aching moan. “Fuck,” she said, and the tone was different—it sounded like a little, wistful whimper. “I’m ready, sweetheart,” she moaned.  
  
Steve wouldn’t protest—he let out a low groan, shifting, gripping her hip in one hand, the other beneath her, pinching gently at her nipple.  
  
She moaned.  
  
He started again, rocking in to her until he was buried in her completely, biting his lip, but he still moaned when he was sheathed in her. She was _perfect,_ slick, and hot, and her body was already throbbing around him, making him certain he’d never be sane again. He pulled to the edge of her, and then pressed back in, so deep that she clenched around him and gasped his name, both her hands knotting in the quilt.  
  
Steve started a rhythm, slow, but deep, finding himself unable to keep from watching himself disappear in to her, relishing the way she was starting to gasp and shake with every single one of his thrusts, feeling her body beginning to tremble around him.  
  
“Fuck! Steve,” she whined, and her voice was thin, and desperate, “fuck me faster, babe,” she gasped, rocking back in to him when he paused to listen. “I’m gonna lose my mind if you don’t.”  
  
Well, he couldn’t exactly deny her, could he? He paused long enough to dip down and kiss the nearest skin he could, but he obeyed her, leaving her moaning, clutching her quilt, swearing under her breath.  
  
He could see the sweat dripping off her, and it made him want to taste her skin, and…  
  
“Fuck,” he mumbled, and he startled her, pulling her up toward him, scooping his arm beneath her, pulling her up, until he was snapping his hips up in to her, and her head fell back on to his chest, her mouth open.  
  
His pace slowed when he dipped down to kiss her, messy and breathless, his hand following her belly, down to the spot where they were joined, and she whined his name. Her arms raised over her head, wrapping around his neck. “Fuck, Steve, I’m gonna—”  
  
He slid his finger over her clit, and she let out a shriek of his name, her whole body twitching against him. “D-don’t, I’m gonna— Fuck, I’m— I’m so close, fuck, Steve!”  
  
He didn’t listen, this time, circling her clit, and then dragged his finger up it, and she came apart around him, his name a scream.  
  
Her legs spasmed, twitching, and she clenched him, her nails raking his skin hard enough to leave marks, but she whimpered and moaned and spasmed around him and Steve fucked her, slow and deep, through her orgasm, until she almost fell out of his arms, and it was his turn to break, when she whispered his name.  
  
He bucked in to her, feeling himself shatter, and she let out a moan when he rutted his last in to her, his own body twitching through his orgasm, but he let her down gently, and she curled up on her side after he’d pulled himself from her, gasping quietly, and Steve leaned in, kissing her forehead softly, brushing her hair from her face. “Did I hurt you?”  
  
“No,” she mumbled, and she reached for him, pulling him down for a kiss, but it was a soft, tiny one. “That was just…intense,” she murmured, and she had a satisfied—if tired—smile on her lips. “I’m going to obligate you in to making breakfast in the morning, though—I’m not sure I’ll make it to the kitchen,” she said.  
  
Steve laughed a little, but he felt it starting to pull at him, too—he was exhausted, suddenly, and he barely managed to throw away the birth control and then slide her under the sheets before he collapsed with her.  
  
This time, he pulled her back in to him before he even thought about it, and (Name) snuggled in to him _very_ happily.  
  
For once, Steve didn’t dream.  
  
At breakfast, he did what she asked, even though she told him he didn’t have to, and he brought her breakfast in bed, and he sat with her.  
  
“Did I ever thank you for last night?” He felt a lot more timid when he could see the sunlight peeking around her blinds, and he wasn’t feeling the urge to fuck her senseless—at least with that, he knew what to do with himself.  
  
“You did,” she soothed, and she turned him toward her. “Hey. No shame—and I’m not regretting this.” She said it very softly, but he could hear the weight of her words. “Sex is sex—and sex is a part of life that just so happens to be _fun,_ when it’s done right,” she said, and she smiled at him. “And I did promise to help you get back at Nat.”  
  
Steve started to grin, slowly.  
  
They purposely refused to let the redhead in the door when she came back to give Steve his keys back, and (Name) told her to leave the keys at the door and that she’d get them—that Steve was asleep, because he hadn’t gotten much the night before.  
  
Not _necessarily_ a lie…  
  
Not completely, anyway.  
  
And Steve avoided her entirely, outside of missions, until one day when Tony threw a party (for whatever reason he’d come up with—Steve suspected the man threw a party at a whim), and he walked in with (Name) on his arm.  
  
Easily the most gorgeous person in the room, Tony had his mouth open when he saw her.  
  
The man, in fact, stuttered her last name, glancing at Steve like the soldier had somehow affected his sight.  
  
“Mr. Stark,” she greeted, but she didn’t seem entertained—she was literally staring at Steve, aside from the brief glance she’d given Tony.  
  
“You know (Name)?” Steve sounded surprised, and reasonably so—(Name) had mentioned she knew Tony, but she hadn’t mentioned _how.  
  
_ “…Does anyone _not_ know her?” Tony’s voice was almost muted, as so many of the attendees had turned to stare at them.  
  
(Name) had at least had the decency to warn Steve about that part. “She’s…filthy rich. She’s from one of those stupidly wealthy southern families, and she invested her money right, and she’s an actress, and she…what is she doing with you?”  
  
Steve stared at Tony, surprised. “Well, Tony, she’s my girlfriend.”  
  
“No, she’s not,” Natasha said, looking defensive, and a little bewildered and suspicious. “She doesn’t date. _You_ don’t date.”  
  
“ _You_ know her?”  
  
“Of course I do— Steve, you’re pulling our leg.”  
  
“You want him to be, so you can keep picking on him, right?” (Name) grinned at Natasha smoothly, cuddling in to Steve’s chest. “I’m afraid you’re going to need to find a new excuse,” she said, and she smirked at the two. “And drop the thing about him not liking swears—he just tries to filter it because he’s worse than me,” she suggested.  
  
Steve let her go when she pulled back from him a little. “I know you can’t get drunk—water, or something stronger, babe?”  
  
“Water,” he replied, and (Name) smoothly stood on her toes and pecked him on the lips and sauntered off.  
  
“You’re lying, Rogers,” Tony said.  
  
Despite their disbelief, Steve spent the better part of the evening with (Name), even though she was the star of the crowd—knocking Tony down several pegs—and at the end of the night, when everyone else had gone, (Name) purposely leaned in to Steve and whispered something in his ear, and he nodded and stood, curling his arm around her waist. “(Name) wants to head home—so we’re going to call it a night,” he said, and before they could move too far, Tony scoffed.  
  
“You’re not dating her, Rogers,” Tony spat. “You haven’t even glanced at any of the women that attend my parties—”  
  
“Your parties are all shimmer and no substance, Mr. Stark,” (Name) retorted, coolly. “The people at your parties are here for the fame and the shallow things that come with being high society,” she said. “I’m a well-educated woman whose family knows a little more courtesy than the city can afford. I can provide a conversation beyond my career or my status, which is apparently quite difficult for other members of your party, since most of them only wanted to brag to me and try and win my favor.” She scowled at him for a long moment. “The women at your parties think of themselves as prizes. I’m a woman, with my own mind, my own will, and I am nothing anyone can win—I’m not an object. Steve respects who I am and what I believe, and what I do with my life.”  
  
She stopped again, and looked at Tony, and then Natasha, and then back. “I’ll thank you not to suggest our relationship is a prank in the future—and I’ll rain hell on any of you that give him trouble over us.”  
  
Steve blinked at her, but he curled his arm around her, and they left.  
  
In (Name)’s apartment, Steve curled his arm around her, pulling her in to his side. “You were a bit sharp,” he said, but there was almost a warmth in the words.  
  
“Tony deserves it, the egotistical little ass,” she murmured, but she cuddled in to him agreeably. “But I was right, wasn’t I?” She smiled at him. “The best payback you can make is to give them nothing to grieve you over—which means you being happy is your best defense against their judgment.”  
  
Steve chuckled at her, but he pulled a blanket off the back of the couch, wrapping the both of them in it. “I’m just glad you actually agreed to go on a date with me, considering our…introduction.” He paused, “And my…er, lack of experience.”  
  
She laughed, reaching for the remote on her table, and settled back in to Steve smoothly. “Why wouldn’t I? I stand by the fact that you’re the best sex I’ve ever had—but the best part is that it’s not the only benefit,” she said, smiling, and she pulled him close, kissing him. “I could never want more than you, Steve. You’re amazing.”  
  
Steve still blushed, but he kissed her back, lingering against her lips for a long moment. “I’m pretty sure I should be telling you that,” he murmured, and kissed her again. “I love you, (Name).”  
  
Her face lit up, and she kissed him back, smiling the whole time. “I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> There! A happier ending than I had expected, but the main writing was about me having some good smut for him, so...I hope I succeeded.
> 
> Comments are very much appreciated, especially with constructive criticism, or at least some input that lets me know what you guys like.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this! Thanks for reading!


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